


Taime's In The Closet

by LokisGirl



Category: Faster Pussycat (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, Blow Jobs, Filming, M/M, Masturbation, Spit As Lube, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29064909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokisGirl/pseuds/LokisGirl
Summary: Half the boys in Faster Pussycat play a game in which two of them pick up groupies while the other one hides in the closet and films the action. Taime hides in the wrong room and finds out why Brent and Greg don't play the game. He still makes a video though.
Relationships: Brent Muscat/Greg Steele
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Taime's In The Closet

Taime huddles in the closet, his blond hair covered in a black bandanna, the red light of the video camera carefully taped up. The sliding door is open just a crack, enough for the lens to protrude inconspicuously. Not open enough for a casual observer to notice him hiding in the dark, waiting to document the dirty deeds about to unfold. Last night it had been Kelly’s turn to tape while he and Mark tag teamed some groupie. The three of them had done it every night of the tour. Greg and Brent stayed away. Taime was fine with that. Greg tended to ruin perfectly good three or more-somes just by being there. His square jaw, high cheek bones and muscled physique made the rest of the guys look scrawny and androgynous. Of course, even the chicks who were into the androgynous thing couldn’t help but gravitate to Greg once he got his pants off. Taime was pretty sure his guitar player’s junk had it’s own gravitational field.

So there he is, all ready for Kelly and Mark to show up with whatever hotties they could talk into coming back to the hotel. What he gets is a surprise.

The door clicked as someone unlocked it. Taime starts the tape rolling and focuses on the double bed in the middle of the room. A light on the bedside table comes on, casting a glare that makes it difficult for Taime to tell who he’s filming. The guy sitting on the far edge of the bed is in the shadows. He’s lanky, his long dark hair and the scarf tied around his head not really giving up any clues- it could be Kelly or Mark. Most of his band mates look kinda the same in the dark. 

“Take your clothes off. I want to see you.”

The voice comes from the doorway. Taime can’t see; it doesn’t matter. He knows that voice. Greg. The thin figure on the bed chuckles in his distinctive manner. He slips out of his silk dress shirt and leans against the headboard, ankles crossed, arms folded behind his head. His smile is slow, sensual and impish. The only person Taime knows who can combine those elements in a simple smile is his other guitarist. It’s Brent. Holy shit, it’s Brent. 

What in hell is going on here? Taime holds his breath, waiting for some phantom groupie to appear. There’s no one else here, he can feel it. His band mates are the only people here; which means they’re here for each other. Taime never would have guessed in a million years.

“Keep going,” Greg urges Brent. “I want to watch you.”

Brent licks his lip, raises his chin a little. “Watch me what?” he asks innocently.

“Now you’re just being a tease,” Greg pouts. “you make me ask every time.”

“Well?” Brent laughs again, a smoky sound that coils in Taime’s balls. Brent is kind of hot, now that he thinks about it.

Greg finally joins Brent on the bed, in a kneeling position on the end of the bed. Sitting back on his feet, he looks at Brent voraciously. “I. Want. To. Watch. You. Jack. Off. Because. You’re. So. Fuckin’. Hot.” He enunciates each word carefully. 

“How can I say no to that?” Brent smiles, slipping his belt open. He peels his leathers off, taking his place against the head board again. One knee bent up and out, his begins his ministrations. He cups his balls with his right hand, keeping his arm out of the way so Greg can see his cock swelling and hardening. Massaging them until he gets the tiny hitch in Greg’s breathing that signals his lover’s complete absorption in the show laid out before him, he slides his long fingers up his shaft. Wrapping them around himself one by one he starts out touching himself slowly, exaggerating each movement for Greg’s pleasure. “You like that? Is this what you want to see?” he taunts the dark haired man who’s staring at him like he’s a shooting star.

“I could watch you stroke yourself all day long.” Greg’s voice is ragged. He’s breathing heavy, and though he hasn’t disrobed Taime can see his erection through the viewfinder. Taime zooms in on the outline straining Greg’s jeans, feeling his heartbeat speed up. 

Brent lazily rubs his thumb over his cockhead in small circles, drawing his other hand down his slender torso. Taime sees how Greg’s eyes dart back and forth, unable to decide whether to watch the fingers trailing down the pale expanse of Brent’s chest or focus on the tantalizing action of the hand on his dick. In the secrecy of the closet, Taime shifts so he can get his own zipper undone. He prays that his belt buckle won’t rattle.

“Does that mean you don’t want to touch me?” Brent delivers the question in such a way that refusing him is out of the question. He stops touching himself and leans back on his elbows expectantly. Greg doesn’t answer. He simply crawls up the bed until he’s between Brent’s legs. Retaking his position sitting on his knees, Greg picks up where Brent left off, replacing one set of nimble fingers with another. Brent doesn’t move for a minute or two. Judging from his expression, his fluttering eyelashes and slack jaw he couldn’t move if he wanted to. A soft moan escapes his lips. It seems to jolt him back to reality. His eyes flick open hungrily. Reaching out, he grabs Greg’s thigh and pulls him up, sliding a hand over his ass. Now Greg’s in a spot where Brent can manipulate his zipper. He sits up and pulls at Greg’s jeans, undoing them with his teeth. They slip easily from his narrow hips, bunching around his knees. 

Taime catches his own gasp before it escapes. Sure, he’s seen Greg in the shower and the dressing room before. Never like this. Greg’s body is a miracle, sculpted planes of smooth muscle and tanned skin all serving as nothing but a picture frame for his magnificent cock. It’s thick, insistent manhood rises straight up his body, flat against his belly. Brent’s hand that so recently held the entirety of his own length comes nowhere close to covering Greg’s member. He adds his other hand, one fist beside the other, working them both with loose wrists. Greg lets his head drop back, baring his throat. Brent dives in with teasing teeth to his adam’s apple. He works his way down Greg’s chest, licking and sucking at taut nipples, biting his sides, dipping a pointed tongue into his belly button. 

The tiniest of licks to Greg’s glans and Brent stops. Mischievous brown eyes meet Greg’s. “What do you say?” Brent prompts.

An answering groan that turns into a melodious laugh. “Please, Brent. Please…” Greg trails off into another giggle. 

“Please what?” Brent licks his lips in anticipation. 

Zooming out to catch the whole picture, Taime captures Greg’s amusement. “Please Brent, put your tongue in my ass.”

Taime nearly drops the camera. He tries so hard not to laugh out loud. This is not the request Brent was expecting and it shows. His eyebrows are so far up his forehead they’re hidden in his fluffy bangs. To his credit, he only considers it for a second.

“Okay. Whatever you want. Bend over,” he agrees equinamably. He scoots out of the way so Greg can lean on his arms against the headboard. Pushing Greg’s black hair over his shoulder to reveal his back, Brent trails kisses down his spine. He runs a finger from Greg’s balls up his crack, making him squirm a bit. Greg separates his legs a little further; Brent laps at his tailbone. He points his tongue once again and Taime has a perfect shot of pink plunging into Greg’s hole. The camera shakes; Taime’s trying to hold it steady with one hand. His jeans are suddenly so tight it’s painful. 

He fights with the buttons and the zipper until he finally manages to find the relief of taking his aching cock in hand. The view jumps and jerks through the lens as he strokes himself viciously. Brent’s got Greg by the hips, trying futilely to keep him from bucking against his face with every lick and thrust of his tongue. Greg’s got a broad hand in his own hair, pushing the sweat-soaked strands away from his face as he arches his back. 

Brent slides a slender arm around Greg’s hip, reaching for that glorious hard on. Greg knocks his hand away. “Brent-“ his ragged breathing comes out choppy. He groans the name like it’s a prayer. “Brent. Brent. Fuck me Brent.” 

Brent lifts his face from Greg’s smooth ass. He still hasn’t lost his smart ass grin. “What do you say?” he asks, forever the tease.

“Please. I wanna feel you inside me. Wanna feel your cock in me.” Greg’s not kidding this time, his voice raw and needy. The sound of it goes straight through Taime; who’s nearly biting through his lip to keep quiet. 

Brent’s got a hand in the small of Greg’s back and another on his own dick. His slow strokes are more automatic than thought out as he questions Greg’s request. “That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me, and I want to fuck you so bad I can’t stand it.”  
The problem has occurred to Greg too by now. “But the lube’s on the bus. Damn. Can I just spit on you?”

Brent cringes a little. “You want it that bad?” He rubs his cockhead over Greg’s still wet hole. His answering moan tells the whole story. Greg turns around, dropping onto all fours to engulf Brent’s cock with his mouth. He sucks hard for a few seconds, pulling his lips up the glistening length slowly. He works his throat for a few seconds, getting up some saliva. Pursing his lips over Brent’s head, he drips as much spit as possible onto his dick. Moving so that he’s facing the closet head on he stays on all fours, presenting his ass to Brent.

Putting two fingers in his own mouth, Brent quickly lubes them up with his own spit. Pressing them to Greg’s entrance he allows Greg to take them in at his own pace. Once Greg is breached, he twists and scissors them momentarily. Greg pulls away from his hand. “No. Cock,” he demands. Manners go out the window as Brent aligns his dick with Greg’s greedy hole and shoves in fast. Greg tenses before he starts to thrust back against Brent’s body, trying to take more of him in. 

Greg starts to shake, his moans picking up volume. Brent grabs him by the hair, pulling him upright to face the mirrored door of the closet. “Touch yourself for me,” he growls. Greg does as he’s told, his strong fingers stroking his massive cock. Brent looks over his shoulder at the image of the two of them. He bites Greg’s shoulder hard as he comes, his final thrusts enough to almost knock his partner off the bed. Greg’s saved by the hand Brent’s still got buried in his hair. His own hand’s a frenzied blur as he gropes for his own climax. 

The sight of Brent sinking his teeth into Greg’s neck as he comes is too much for Taime. He squeezes the base of his cock, trying to stave off orgasm. It backfires, the momentary denial making him come even harder. Black flowers bloom in his mind as his vision goes blurry. He opens his eyes to take in a split second view of Greg roaring like a wild animal before something white and sticky hits the lens. 

This is one tape he’s going to keep for himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted elsewhere as Taime's Video 2014-ish


End file.
